


Preference To Be Force Fed

by SordidDetailsFollowing



Series: Spideypool Bingo [1]
Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, NSFW Bingo, One Shot, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Spideypool Bingo 2019, Standalone, Throat Fucking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-20 02:53:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19984876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SordidDetailsFollowing/pseuds/SordidDetailsFollowing
Summary: Spideypool Bingo 2019: Throat Fucking





	Preference To Be Force Fed

**Author's Note:**

> Work Title:  
> Empathy - Crystal Castles

Peter still had his mask on, and it was starting to stick uncomfortably to the tops of his cheeks where the spandex was wet with tears and clinging to his skin. He wanted to take it off, but one of Wade’s large hands was spread across the back of his skull, holding him steady, and his own fingers were occupied with grasping at the back of the mercenary’s thighs. It kept him grounded to grip onto the leather of his suit, giving Peter something to focus on so he didn’t lose his tremulous control of the situation.

“That’s it, Peter. So good, _fuck_ honey yes. Just like that.”

Peter blinked, sending another trickle of wet to soak into the tacky fabric as his eyes continued to water. Wade pushed forward again and Peter felt his jaw creak, stretched too wide as his boyfriend’s oversized cock hit the back of his throat. He struggled not to gag, sucking in a sharp breath of air through his nose. He was doing better lately, taking more, and Wade’s low groan of appreciation made it easier, let Peter’s eyelids flutter shut and helped him relax enough for the tension to ease from his shoulders.

“Gods, Spidey. _Look_ at you. Taking it so well for me.” 

Wade loved to do this when he wore the mask.

He sounded drunk on it, breathless and low and rough like gravel. That voice made Peter want to live on his knees, just to know that it was him making Wade fall slowly apart like this. His mouth. He loved how it felt when Wade pulled back again, the head of his cock dragging slow and heavy over his tongue. He tasted like salt and musk and _Wade_ and Peter sucked boldly at his tip, causing the mercenary to grunt before thrusting forward once more.

It had taken some work to get here. The first time Peter tried to suck Wade off, he’d choked on his (frankly massive) dick in one go and nearly coughed up his last meal in what would have been a very unfortunate incident had he not managed to swallow it down. He’d have been mortified by the experience, if Wade hadn’t found it bizarrely hot and proceeded to come all over Peter’s face with just a few frantic pulls of his fist.

They were very lucky that the both of them laughed easily and recovered quickly in the bedroom.

Peter breathed in the heady scent of Wade’s arousal and tried to concentrate on not gagging. He wanted to do well. He wanted to be able to take all of Wade, even if it seemed impossible. His boyfriend had never had an issue taking all of Peter down, not only because he had a big mouth (ha), but because he seemed to have no gag reflex whatsoever and his tongue was dangerously dexterous. Peter knew Wade was kind of obsessed with way his lips looked stretched around the mercenary’s length. He wanted to make all of Wade’s dirtiest fantasies come true. (Well, except for the one with the unicorn. That one was weird.)

“Oh fuck, Petey, yes yes. You’re doing so well, baby, so fucking good.” Wade didn’t let up with the steady stream of praise, words falling between short hitches of breath and low moans, so Peter seemed to be doing pretty okay so far.

He pushed deeper until Peter’s throat spasmed around the intrusion, then held himself there, his hand a solid weight keeping the hero’s head pressed forward. Peter swallowed reflexively to keep from gagging and Wade cursed, the word shaky under his breath. He was gentler on his next thrust, dragging indulgently over Peter’s tongue before prodding into his soft palate again. His fingers moved at the back of Peter’s head, dragging through his tangled hair, and then the mask was peeled off and tossed away.

Peter drew a relieved breath through his nose, the air cool against his damp face, and blinked up at Wade through wet and clumpy eyelashes. 

“Fuck.” Wade grunted through his teeth and thrust in harder than before, his free hand rising to cup Peter’s jaw, thumb stroking under one eye. “I really wanna fuck your throat, Peter. Can I?”

A hot twist of arousal and erotic apprehension made Peter’s dick twitch inside the tight spandex of his suit. He made a sound of agreement that had Wade’s hips twitching forward, fingers tightening in the back of his hair.

“Two taps if you need to safeword, okay? Do it now so I know you’ll remember.” Peter did it, two sharp taps against the side of Wade’s thigh. “Good boy.”

And then, before Peter could take a breath, before he could brace himself, Wade was sliding steadily forward. Instead of stopping when he hit the sensitive flesh that had Peter’s throat clicking with a suppressed gag, he used his grip on Peter’s hair to angle his head forward and just kept going.

Peter’s whole body trembled as the blunt head of Wade’s cock pressed inside the tight passage of his throat, deeper than ever before and impossibly large and slick with spit and precome and he couldn’t breath and his jaw hurt, _fuck_ but he was so full, so overwhelmed by everything Wade. His skin crawled with tension, muscles twitching as he held himself on the edge, consumed by the sensation of being just this side of too fucking much. One more second and he couldn’t take it. One more second and the strain would be unbearable.

But Wade held himself there, panting, his own hand not entirely steady as he stroked damp hair away from Peter’s face, and he took it. He took it, fingers digging into the backs of Wade’s thighs, and was gratified by the _fuck Peter_ that fell into the air above him, more helpless and desperate than anything that was said before, like Wade was the one being overwhelmed. 

Finally, when he felt like he might shake apart at the seems, Wade moved again. He pulled back slightly, not fully leaving the passage of Peter’s throat, before fucking in deep. Then he did it again. He picked up a rhythm, keeping his fist tangled in Peter’s hair to control the angle of his mouth, and soon the filthy slick sound of his thrusts filled the heated air, punctuated by the mercenary’s low, wanton groans.

Peter held on, hazy with arousal and oversaturated sensation. It was easier not to gag like this, with Wade pushed past his initial reflex, but it did hurt more. He could feel the column of his throat beginning to ache with protest, not used to the rough stretch. It was a good hurt, like when Wade fucked him hard enough to feel it for a few hours afterwards, even with his advanced healing.

He hoped his throat would ache for a while. Like a bruise, on the inside.

When Wade came with a muted gasp, going still and trembling in that way he only did when it was really really good, he shot straight into the very back of Peter’s throat. Hot, thick come trickled down without him having to swallow, and he did gag then. His throat spasmed and he had to pull back, coughing, and some of it leaked from the edges of his lips as he gasped for breath. 

“Fuck.” Wade groaned, absolutely ragged, and slipped his thumb between Peter’s parted lips. He pressed down on the back of Peter’s tongue and dragged the pad of his thumb back and forth, rubbing it in. Peter closed his lips around the digit and sucked, swallowing back whatever was left even though the soreness made him wince.

Wade stumbled sideways a couple of steps until he could collapse onto the couch with a satisfied sigh, not bothering to pull his pants back up from around his knees. They had never made it past the living room, both buzzing after an active patrol. And Wade hadn’t stopped running his filthy mouth all the way home, until neither of them could keep their hands to themselves as soon as the door shut behind them.

“C’mere, Baby Boy.” Wade patted his lap and Peter climbed up willingly, leaning forward to kiss Wade deep and slick when he removed his mask without having to be asked. 

“That good?” He asked against Wade’s warm mouth, his voice coming out hoarse and broken. His throat felt wrecked, and sounded it too. He’d be fine a couple of hours, but for now he could enjoy how the sound of it made Wade nip hungrily at him, fingers digging into his ass as he hauled Peter closer.

“Fuck yeah, honey. You have no idea how… Gods. Have I told you that I love you? Cause that, right there. I fucking love you, Peter Benjamin Parker.”

Peter couldn’t kiss through the wide grin plastered across his face, so he pressed it into Wade’s cheek instead, wrapping his arms around the mercenary’s broad shoulders. “That’s all it took, huh?” He sounded like he’d smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. And he’d never smoked before in his life. “Shoulda let you ruin my throat sooner.”

“Oh, I’ll ruin you.” Wade growled into the curve of his ear. “I’ll ruin you for anything else. Till it’s all you can fucking think about.”

“Too late.” Peter gasped, arching into Wade’s body as his palm found the hard line of Peter’s straining cock.

Wade littered his neck with bites and bruises, teasing him through the suit until Peter was whining and squirming shamelessly in his lap. And when he finally worked him free and took him in one spit-slicked fist, it only took a few tight strokes for Peter to come so hard his toes curled.

And he was. Peter was ruined for anything else ever, and that was perfectly alright with him.


End file.
